London Calling
by Anachia
Summary: After some...changes Peter comes to stay with the Darlings. But how will he cope with growing up, modren England and worst of all Wedny's suitor?
1. Chapter I

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Author's Notes: Ok, I know I haven't updated my other Peter Pan fic yet but this idea kept running around my head and so I just had to write it…to stay sane. I hope you like my little offering and if you're looking for more Peter/Wendy I recently posted another story, Erosion of Neverland on this site. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Peter Pan and associated characters do not belong to me. I'm merely using them for kicks and not receiving any money in return! P.S. Hats off to J.M. Barrie who left the copyright of the novel to Great Ormand Street Hospital for Sick Children!

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Peter alighted on the nursery window, gazing inside. It had been some time since he had been to the Darling house, how long he could not be sure for sometimes his memory was not very good, but he was certain that Wendy would be still waiting for him, after all, the window was still open. 

He glanced around, seeing the three beds occupied. Grinning to himself he strode into the room. Before he made his way inside, however, lightning flashed before his eyes and pain laced his skull. He had knocked his head against the window frame. Slightly dazed, he found he was forced to crouch low in order to gain entry to the house. This puzzled him only a little, as Peter rarely thought about the consequences of his actions. He peeped around the shadowy room in search of Wendy. Hoping to his feet, he glided through the room, coming to hover over the bed he knew to be Wendy's. 

He was quite shocked then to discover not the pretty girl he had entranced to Neverland but a boy, one with red hair and freckles. He stared at the boy for some time. Something about him was familiar… like the memory of a dream, but the memories eluded him. Peter frowned a little but did not dwell on it, there were often times where he found his memory unreliable. 

He flew to the other beds but his search for Wendy proved unsuccessful. The other two beds he found occupied by the same boy, or was that two of the same boy? He did not care enough to dwell on the matter. But where was Wendy? He paced the room in anger, taking out his frustration on a shoe that lay discarded on the floor. It sailed through the air and collided with a hunched figure lying next to the fire place. 

Grumbling in an almost human manner Nana raised her head. She had got a little deaf as the years passed and had not heard Peter's entrance. However she saw him now and wasted no time in voicing her protest at the uninvited guest. 

Peter quickly drew his dagger and was circling Nana when the nursery door flew open to reveal a pretty young woman in her night-gown. 

"Nana! What on earth is this racket?! Did the-" Wendy fumed as she forcefully opened the door. She was in the process of striding over to Nana when the figure stalking their nurse caught her attention. Her jaw dropped and she began backing into the hall. Fear gripped her heart as the figure began advancing on her. 

"Wendy!" Peter grinned as the subject of his search entered the room.

Wendy stopped her retreat when she heard her name. She eyed the youth thoughtfully for a second before recognition took her. "Peter?" She asked doubtfully.

He nodded enthusiastically, a cheeky grin on his tanned face. "Ay, tis Peter Pan!" He announced. His grin faded, however, once he observed Wendy's countenance. "Did I not tell you I would return?" He explained.

"Peter," Wendy replied with forced calm. "That was six years ago."

"Oh." Peter chewed on his lip. "I suppose that's a long time then?"

"Very long." Wendy blinked back tears. She had thought Peter had forgotten her, she knew how awful his memory was.

"Well, I've returned now!" He grinned again, wondering idly why Wendy was scrutinising him so.

"Have you been in Neverland all that time?" She asked doubtfully.

"Of course." Peter replied in a slightly angry manner. "Where else would I be?" He inspected the chest of drawers in which his shadow had been trapped before returning his gaze to Wendy. Her troubled looks were worrying him. "Why?"

Wendy glanced up and down the hall, not quite sure what to say. She was quite glad her parents were at a party in the neighbours. "Well, it's just that…" Peter gave her an impatient look. She frowned, deciding beating around the bush would not help lessen the blow. "Peter, didn't you know?" He continued to stare at her, completely clueless. "Peter, you've grown."

Peter stared at her horrified for a few seconds before turning angry. "That's a cruel joke, Wendy." He fumed. "I'm sorry I took so long to return but do not punish me with such lies."

"Peter, it's the truth. Haven't you noticed?" She replied, tears in her eyes. 

"No, you lie! Stop it!" He screamed, screwing his eyes shut. 

"Peter, look." Wendy pointed to the mirror hanging in the landing. 

Peter glared at her but did indeed look into the reflecting glass. The face that stared back at him was most certainly not that of a boy. His features were sharper, more defined. He no longer had the round face of a boy. He was becoming a man. "No!" He cried. Hitting the mirror forcefully. His blow shattered the glass and sent it tinkling to the floor. He pulled his hand back in shock, cradling the injured appendage against his chest.

Wendy cried out in horror as she saw the rivets of blood flowing freely from Peter's hand. "Oh, Peter." She reached out to him but he recoiled. 

"No, stay away from me!" He cried, backing away. In his turmoil he failed to notice the carpet behind him and tripped on the edge, landing heavily on the floor. He found himself weeping openly. 

In an instant Wendy was at his side. "Oh Peter, please don't run away from me." She stroked his arm soothingly. Peter merely sniffed but did not otherwise respond. "I'll bandage your hand for you and you can tell me what's happened in Neverland since I've been away." She smiled at him, while helping him to his feet. Gently she guided him to her room, the one she had moved into with the addition of the Lost Boys. She indicated for him to sit on the bed before she turned to leave the room.

"Wendy!" Peter called out in distress as he saw he abandon him.

"It's all right, Peter." She smiled gently. "I'm just going to get water and a bandage." She nodded her reassurances to him before leaving to the bathroom. She filled a porcelain bowl with warm water and took a wash cloth from the rail. Sighing she began ripping old sheets into strips for bandage. She was still not quite sure this wasn't all some kind of dream. She had waited for so long for Peter to return but after so long she had almost given up hope. But now here he was…but what had happened? For he appeared as old as she. Could it be that he to had grown? She had though it impossible, that Peter's insolent will would always keep him a boy but it seemed she was wrong. 

Satisfied with her medical equipment she returned to her room. Peter was slightly more composed now, though tears still shone in his cerulean eyes. "Here." She took his hand gently and placed it in the bowl of water. She had often dressed Peter's wounds and he had always been quite brave about it, she hesitated at using the words 'grown-up'. He winced a little as she gently removed the mud and grime that seemed to constantly stain his, and once the Lost Boys, hands. "Peter, did you not notice you were getting taller?" She asked gently, afraid to upset him. 

"No," He replied miserably. "How would I?" He attempted to with draw his hand as Wendy began to remove the glass shards with a tweezers. 

She held fast to his hand, pursing her lips in determination. "Did you not noticed you were taller that the other Lost Boys?" She winced at causing him pain, necessary though it maybe.

"They're aren't any Lost Boys." He said stiffly. 

"No more Lost Boys?" She looked up from her work, pity tightening her chest. "Why?" Peter shrugged in response. "What about the Red Skins?"

"Oh," He grinned slightly. "We're at war again." Some of the mischief returned to his eyes.

Wendy returned her attentions to his hand, rolling her eyes in disbelief. But she could not quell the pity stirring in her heart. It was mostly due to her that Peter had been left alone. Maybe he had been forced to grow up. She knew he bored easily, perhaps some many years in solitude had caused a fundamental change in him, now manifested in physical growth. She sighed as she finished cleaning his wound and began to wrap it in linen. 

Peter fidgeted, uneasy with the silence. He looked around the room, his attention not on any particular item. "You don't sleep in the nursery any more." He noted. 

"Oh…no." Wendy replied, securing at knot to keep Peter's bandage in place. 

"Why?" He asked childishly. 

Wendy stared up at him. She could not decide whether it was the shock at seeing he had grown or her flowing night gown that hid the changes in her body, but it seemed Peter had not noticed that she was nearly a woman. "Peter, I've grown up." She replied gently. He looked down at her sadly, even more upset than he had appeared to be with the news of his own metamorphosis. She stood up and returned his sad smile. "Stay, Peter." She took a seat next to him on her bed. "Mother and Father will love you, I know. And the Lost Boys will be ever so happy to see you."

Peter looked at her, his eyes devoid of their usual playfulness. "Stay…" He mused. "And become a man." He added scornfully. 

Wendy choked back a sob. "Oh don't you see, Peter….you're already a man." She whispered, her heart breaking. 

Peter wanted to scream and shout, to make her take it back…but he knew she was right. Perhaps he had known these past few years, instinctively understood that it was finally time he left Neverland. Breathing shallowly he began to weep, a fear the like of which he had never felt before tearing at his heart. 

Wendy, seeing his pitiful state began to weep too. Gently she took him in her arms and stroked his back soothingly. At first Peter tensed in her embrace but slowly he collapsed against her, clutching her tightly, begging her to stop whatever was happening to him, to make him a boy again…

So caught up in their mutual grief were they that neither heard the front door open and Mr. and Mrs. Darling return. Shrewd eyed George Darling spied the lights of Wendy's room still on. Smiling to his wife, they silently ascended the stairs, hoping to catch their only daughter still awake.

"And what are you doing up at such an hour as this?" George asked playfully swinging the door open.

The sight that greeted his eyes was enough to make him drop his hat in shock. Nestled comfortably on her bed was his first born in the arms of a savage-looking boy. "WENDY!" He cried in shock, adverting his eyes. He heard his wife gasp in shock just behind him.

Peter and Wendy broke apart in shock. Reflexes like lightning, Peter was to his feet in an instant, holding his dagger threateningly. 

"No Peter, don't!" Wendy cried, jumping to her feet and coming between Peter and her parents. "Mother, father, I can explain-"

"Explain?" He father said aghast, finally looking back to her. "How on earth can you explain? The disgrace, Wendy…" He shook his head in disbelief. "And you," He turned his attention on Peter, not noticing the dagger. "Who are you? And how _dare_ you enter my daughter's room."

"Father, please!" Wendy flashed Peter a look, and he sheathed his dagger. "It's Peter Pan." She looked to her mother. "Truly it is."

They both looked at her as if she had gone mad. Further explanations on Wendy's part were made unnecessary as, in the lengthy silence that followed, Michael and the twins burst into her room. They had been woken initially by Nana's barking but the cries of out rage from their father had been the final straw. Upon hearing that Peter Pan was once again in the house they broke forth, determined to see him. Mr. and Mrs. Darling shuffled back in surprise as they pushed them aside, coming to a stop before Wendy. Three inquisitive faces blinked in Peter's direction. It was at almost precisely the same moment that they simultaneously recognised each other. The three young boys became instantly giddy, delighted that their captain had returned, Peter however, was quite a different story.

He pulled away from them as they neared. He was increasingly uncomfortable with his increased height. He now towered above the pre-pubescent younger boys. He recognised something of his 'old' face in them. The soft, round features, the immature, button like noses. Appalled at the changes ravaging his body he stepped around them, placing Wendy's body between them and himself.

Michael visibly wilted. "Peter, don't you remember us?" He asked, sounding even more childish than he appeared. 

Wendy glanced at the once proud boy now practically cowering behind her. She instantly recognised the fear in his eyes. She smiled reassuringly at him, opting not to take his hand after glancing at her father. "Of course he does, Michael…but Peter's feeling poorly tonight. Why don't you and the twins go back to bed and you can see him tomorrow." She nodded in encouragement. Michael and the ever complaint twins frowned before taking one last glance at Peter and exiting the room. 

Wendy took a deep breath before turning to face her parents again. "Father it's true. He's ill…and he cut his hand." Wendy glanced in the direction of Peter's bandaged hand. "I couldn't leave him. It would be unlady like."

"Don't you presume to-" George began before his wife stopped him.

"Of course not Wendy." She walked towards her daughter smiling serenely. Peter, his usual distrust of mother's shining true, backed away in kind. Mrs. Darling observed him sadly before turning once more to Wendy. "Why don't you explain everything to your father while I make sure Peter's hand is all right." 

Wendy looked back at Peter, her doubt obvious. He seemed to be silently begging her not to leave him alone but what choice did she have? She needed to explain to her father. "All right." She replied wearily, nodding gently to Peter. 

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Peter fidgeted on the chair in the Darling's sitting room. He picked at his ragged trousers, at his bandage at anything to keep from looking at the lady sitting across from him. He could hear Wendy and her father talking loudly in the drawing room next door, but their voices were too muffled to make out any words. 

"It's been some time since you've visited, Peter." He glanced up to find Mrs. Darling keenly observing him, the same serene smile on her lips. 

He glanced around the room nervously, not quite sure she required an answer. Sighing, he shrugged. "I suppose. We don't have clocks and calendars in Neverland." He got to his feet and began inspecting the furniture in the room. 

"Then how to you know how old you are?"

He looked at her sharply, quite certain she was making a point but not knowing if she was mocking him. He caught his newly unfamiliar refection in a mirror on the wall behind her. "I don't." He replied, walking past her to stare at himself once more. He sighed, disgusted at the changes he saw in himself. He looked so bizarre reflected in the Darling's lavishly furnished house, he, a wild 'boy' with a dirty face and no shoes. He noticed Mrs. Darling watching him in the mirror. He wanted to scream at her to stop. How dare she look at him like that, with pity in her eyes. This was all her fault. If not for her Wendy would not have returned to London. She would have stayed with him in Neverland where they would have been young forever. But for her mother she had returned and nothing had been the same.

Any actions on his part were stopped by the drawing room door opening and Wendy and George entering. Mrs. Darling watched with half amusement, half apprehension as Peter's face lit up at the sight of Wendy. Wendy too seemed pleased. This coupled with her husband's pained and tired expression convinced her that Peter was staying, for tonight at least.

"Wendy?" Peter asked nervously, his attention solely fixed on her. 

"Oh, Peter, father has said, that is if you want to…"She sighed, biting her lip. "You can stay."

"Stay." He began backing away from her, casting furtive glances to the window. 

Wendy sensed his shift in emotion and reached out to him. "Not forever, Peter. Just until you feel better." He did not seem convinced, as he began to edge towards a window, his breathing rapid and shallow. "Just stay tonight, Peter. Then, tomorrow, we can talk about your…changes." She implored. 

He looked down to his hand, pulling at the bandage. "Just tonight?" 

"Yes, we won't make you do anything you don't want to do." She smiled brightly as Peter looked up, seemingly more up beat. 

"All right, it quite late enough." George interjected, a little uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged between the two young people. "To bed with everyone or we shall be fit for nothing tomorrow." He walked uncomfortably to Peter's side. "You can sleep in the elder boy's room." He informed Peter. "They are away apprenticing for the summer months."

Peter eyed him suspiciously, his distrust of the man obvious. "Will you come with me, Wendy." He asked.

"Certainly not! I-"

"George, dear." Mrs. Darling interrupted her husband, hearing the innocence of Peter's voice and understanding his request. "Wendy must go to her own bed, Peter." She explained. Peter scowled and refused to make eye contact with her. "But I shall make sure you are comfortable." She smiled brightly, even though Peter's eyes were down cast. 

"Come." George insisted and ushered them all to bed. 

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Peter squirmed on the soft mattress. His back ached and he longed for his own cosy bed beneath the tree. The ceiling frightened him. It was so high and shadowed, not at all like the one in his home. There the tree's roots twisted and curved across the low ceiling and he would imagine shapes in them until sleep took him. He pulled at the pyjamas Wendy's mother had provided. They was heavy, over bearing and uncomfortably hot. With a grunt of frustration he sat up and pushed the covers off. He leapt from the bed and stripped the offending clothes from his body leaving behind only a pair of rough shorts he wore while swimming in the mermaid's lagoon. He attempted to sleep for a little longer but Peter was never famed for his patience. Biting his lip he quietly stole across the room and to the door. Holding his breath he opened the wooden frame and crept into the hall. Slowly he ascended the stairs, wincing whenever a floorboard creaked beneath him. He made his way to Wendy's room and quietly opened the door, watching what he knew to be her parent's room intently. He stole into her refuge, closing the door behind him. 

Wendy was not sleeping as he had expected her to be. In truth she was wide awake. The fact that Peter had returned, almost grown not with standing, and was sleeping downstairs was enough to prevent her any chance of rest. She sat up straight when she heard someone enter to room. 

"Peter!" She hissed, pulling the blankets close. "What are you doing?" 

He stopped in his tracks, remembering how Wendy's mother had insisted he remain in John's bed. "I…I couldn't sleep." He bit his lip, slowly edging closer to Wendy.

Wendy sighed. She remembered how Peter used to toss and turn in his sleep. He would mumble and cry out, fighting imaginary demons. She would sit with him through these nightmares, stroking his hair until he calmed down. Once she was reassured he was dreaming contentedly she would return to her own bed. She never spoke of the nightmares to Peter. In fact she wasn't certain he remembered them himself. But still, she would have to convince him to remain in the elder boy's room. He father would likely have him arrested if he found him in her room again. "Peter, you must return to your room." 

"It's not my room!" He retorted forcefully, careful to keep his voice low. "I don't live here…" He added softly. 

"Oh I know that, Peter." She slipped from her covers and approached him, smiling sadly. "But you must do as father asks. He does not approve of you being in my room."

"Why?" Peter whined, sounding immensely childish.

Wendy could not help but smile. In essentials Peter would never change. She mulled over the question, wondering how best to phrase her response. "Well…things are different in England, Peter. It's not…proper for you to be here."

"What's wrong with me?" He asked haughtily, looking down his nose at her. 

"It's a little hard to explain…girls and boys, they…well, oh…I don't know Peter. It is silly." She smiled at him, hoping to appease him. "But while you stay here you must not anger father. All right?" She looked up at him awaiting a response. 

Peter pouted, folding his arms over his chest. "Fine." He mumbled, although he did not make a move to exit her room. 

"How about I make sure you're comfortable down there?" She nodded, wishing she could talk to him but knowing the consequences of such actions. 

Peter sighed long and hard, a long suffering look on his face. "If you wish."

So together they descended the creaking stairs. Peter lamenting on how it was similar to many of their adventures, some of the mischief returning to his eyes. Silently they re-entered the boy's room. Wendy chuckled as Peter tripped over the discarded pyjamas he had left balled on the floor. "Come on, to bed with you." She attempted to sound commanding. 

Peter moaned low in his throat, making a face at the soft mattress. "I don't like it." He whined. "It's like sleeping on a cloud, all soft and lumpy…it makes my back ache." Of course he was used to his own bed under the tree. Though covered in furs it was still more supportive of the soft down mattress. 

"Well, how about this then." Wendy began stripping the bed and pulling all the linens onto the floor. In less than a minute she had a bed that more resembled a nest prepared for Peter on the floor. "We had to all do this after we came back from Neverland. It took Nibs months to get used to a mattress." 

Peter eyed the make shift bed suspiciously before flopping unceremoniously onto the floor. He rearranged the covers as he saw fit until he was quite comfortable. Settled, he glanced up at Wendy. "Thanks."

She beamed at him. "Oh the cleverness of me!" Peter grinned playfully up at her. She blushed and forced herself to look away. "Well…" She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "I'll be off then, good-"

"You're leaving?!" Peter sat up straight.

"Yes Peter, I said-"

He interrupted her explanation. "Wendy! Please…I…" He glanced around the dark room, ashamed of his pleading tone.

Wendy sighed, coming to kneel next to him. She knew she could not possibly understand how strange and, frankly, terrifying this must be to Peter. In Neverland he was a force to be reckoned with, he had had a miniature army of followers, he had been known and respected…but in London, **_he _**was the lost boy. Everything was new and unusual to him, he was probably terrified. Not to mention the changes he was going through. Wendy knew Peter never wanted to grow up. He hated everything it represented and yet here he was, his body going through frightening changes and nothing he, or anybody else could do about it. "I'll stay until you fall asleep." She pulled the covers around herself to stave off the cold. 

Peter smiled crookedly before lying back. He shifted a little until comfortable before turning to look at Wendy. She blushed once more as he held her gaze but this time did not look away. She reminded herself not to read anything into it. Peter had always been like that, he was not shy about eye contact. He had often looked at her, a question in his eyes, as she did 'unusual' things…like darning socks, washing her hands, things he himself could not do or was not bothered with. As she gazed back at him she was amazed at how little he had fundamentally changed. While his body had moulded itself into that of a young man his eyes retained their innocence. He looked up at her unashamedly even as sleep took him and his eye lids became impossible heavy. His last thoughts were of Wendy and her warm, comforting presence. As Wendy reluctantly left him sleeping she worried he would suffer nightmares alone…she need not of bothered. For the first time in many, many months Peter's dreams were untroubled. 

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What an uneventful chapter! Things will actually happen in the next one, I promise. Including Peter's reaction to all things English…and the entrance of a possible suitor for his Wendy!


	2. Chapter II

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Author's notes: Nothing really. Chapter two….thanks everyone who reviewed chapter one. I love you! Hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave a review once your finish. If anyone cares to visit, I now have a live journal thingy 

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If you have any questions regarding this or any of my other fics just leave a note. It's easier for me to reply that way than through author's notes and chapter notes! 

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Wendy woke with the sunrise the following morning. She lay unmoving in her bed for sometime, entirely convinced that last night had all been a dream and that leaving her bedroom would shatter that dream. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly willing herself back to sleep, to her dream where Peter had returned. She kept telling herself it couldn't be real, that there was no possible way Peter was asleep down stairs in the elder boy's room. After all these years he just could not have returned, it was too unreal. She had dreamed of an event such as this for so long only to have woken to the stark reality. She knew in her heart that this too must had been a similar dream…..her dreams never came true any more. 

She peaked one eye open, glancing suspiciously in the direction of her door. She could hear voices behind it. It sounded like Michael and the twins were speaking in hushed tones outside her room. She chuckled humourlessly to herself. She mused that they were probably planning to raid the pantry or some other such mischief. She was quite taken by surprise then to hear her door creak open and even more surprised to find the three young boys creeping into her room. "Boys!" She chastised, her voice a low whisper. 

Michael winced at her tone but it did not impede his determination. "Wendy is it true?" He whispered coming to kneel near the foot of her bed. 

One of the twins closed the door silently and they both moved to join her next to Michael.

"Is what true?" She asked puzzled, her mind still unaccecpting.

The twins frowned. "That Peter has returned?" They replied in unison, as they so often did.

Wendy felt her heart leap. So it hadn't been a dream! She felt her heart soar and smiled widely at her younger brothers. "Yes." She answered breathlessly, leaping from her bed to embrace the boys. They hugged tightly, trying hard to contain their delight. 

"Where is he?" Michael glanced around the room as if expecting Peter to step out from behind the curtains.

"He's sleeping in the elder boy's room, downstairs." Wendy explained. "At least he was last night."

"Oh Wendy you don't think he's returned to Neverland do you?" One of the twins pleaded, holding her hand tight. 

"No, no of course not." Wendy attempted to sound confident but the same doubts were troubling her. "Let's make sure, shall we?" She grinned at the boy's, pulling her light cotton dressing gown loosely around her. She knew her father would be appalled to think she had been speaking with strange boys while improperly dressed but she seriously doubted her parents were awake at such an hour. 

Silently the four climbed down the stairs, Michael whispered loudly at them to be quiet, his voice far louder than any of their movements, but they made it downstairs without trouble. Wendy opened the door of the downstairs bedroom slowly, glaring good naturedly at the excited boys behind her telling her to make haste. Eventually they gained entry to the room and one by one filed inside.

At first Wendy thought her worst fears confirmed for there was no sign of Peter. But then as she peered closely at the covers of the bed she had made him she caught sight of a few strands of golden blonde hair. She gently pulled back the covers to reveal Peter, sleeping soundly. He lay flat on his back, one hand lying idle on his stomach, the other above his head. Wendy could not help but stare at him. He was so different from the young men she knew in England. His skin was such a warm bronze and his hair so untidy. He still looked positively wild, something she took comfort in. 

"Wendy?" 

Her attention snapped back to the three boys in her company. Blushing deeply she realised she had been staring. She brought a finger to her lips, signalling to the boys to be silent. "He is still asleep. We can go dress and see if he has woken after." She had become uncomfortably aware of not only her own state of undress but that of the sleeping boy's. The boys groaned in protest causing Wendy to wince. "Sush!" She instructed through gritted teeth as she began ushering them from the room. Mumbling quietly the boys began to file out when suddenly, and quite loudly, Michael took a fall, landing in a heap before the door. Wendy shot him a venomous look, quite sure his fall had not been entirely accidental, before she heard a commotion behind her. 

Peter, upon hearing the loud bang, woke with a start. He shot from his 'bed' straight into the air and collided harshly with the ceiling. Groaning in pain he fell from the air and landed with an even louder crash to the floor. 

"Peter!" Wendy called loudly, coming to kneel before the startled boy. Michael and the twins quickly followed, crowding around their captain. "Are you all right?" Wendy asked, keeping from touching Peter.

Peter winced, rubbing his head where he had hit it off the ceiling. It took a few seconds for him to realise he was not in his under tree-house in Neverland. He looked worriedly around the room before his sight came to rest on Wendy crouched beside him. In an instant the memories came flooding back to him. He instantly regained his appearance of cockiness. "Of course." He grinned, sitting up straighter.

Wendy smiled back. "I-" But she was cut mid sentence by the door being flung open.

George rushed into the room looking quite insane. He still had his pyjamas on, although he had managed to pull a dressing gown over them. His hair was wild and stuck out around his head in strange angles. His face was flushed as his eyes darted around the room eventually falling on Wendy. "What is going on here?" He demanded. "It sounds like you are having a battle of some sort." He glanced suspiciously at Peter before looking back to his daughter. 

"We, eh, just came to check on Peter." She replied, smiling nervously. "He was startled and banged his head on the ceiling." 

"Banged his head on the ceiling, did he?" Her father sounded unimpressed. "Bouncing on the beds, were we?" He added contemptuously, crossing his arms. 

"No, he flew, father." Michael replied.

Wendy winced, not entirely certain how her father would take such news. 

"Flew?" George Darling voice was unnaturally high and tight sounding. "Was this with an aeroplane or did he call a dragon to his aid." 

"No, he uses pixie dust." One of the twins explained, entirely innocent of his adoptive father's sarcastic tones. 

George Darling, became tongue tied and stuttered more than once upon hearing this reply. "Pixie…dust?" His eyes bulged. 

Wendy sighed. This was certainly not a good start to the day. She gave her father a small, but encouraging smile, before turning to Peter. With one look he understood what she wanted and gracefully took to the air. He glided above the three boys coming to land silently before Mr. Darling. Although he did not like the man he understood it was important to Wendy he make a good impression and so he bowed before him gracefully. 

For his part Mr. Darling merely stared open mouthed at the boy before him, his eyes now impossibly large. Eventually he looked around Peter to Wendy, who had now come to stand behind him. "It's all right, father." She said soothingly, smiling slightly at the look on his face. "How about we get dressed and we can talk about it during breakfast?" She ventured. Her father nodded in agreement, all the while staring at Peter with half amazement, half horror. 

The three younger boys took the lead, laughing and joking amongst themselves. Wendy followed their lead with Peter following directly after. Wendy expected her father to object to this but he seemed to startled to do anything but gape. Peter flashed him a cheeky grin, one that Wendy battled furiously not to mirror. George Darling shook himself, ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and made straight for the liquor cabinet. With slightly shaking hands he poured himself a generous brandy. Although it wasn't the first time he had seen someone fly (the Lost Boys had done so on more than one occasion) it was still disconcerting. 

As soon as Wendy and the boys reached the landing they erupted in peals of laughter. "Poor father." Wendy commented, wiping her eyes. "I expect he's 'settling his nerves' as we speak." 

"Wendy, do not make fun of your father so." Mrs. Darling stood in the doorway of her room, fully dressed. Although her voice was stern, her face was amused as always.

"I'm sorry mother." Wendy apologised, attempting to stem her laughter. 

"Yes, well, I'm sure your father is in for a lot more if the events of six years ago are anything to go by." Her mother sighed, recalling the frantic few months following the Lost Boys joining their family. "I'll rouse Liza and have her prepare breakfast while you all dress." She breezed past them, smiling brightly at Peter and pointed ignoring the slightly evil looks she was receiving from the youth. 

"All right, you heard mother." Wendy began ushering the boys into their room before making her way into her own. She was quite startled to find Peter hot on her heals. He collided with her when she stopped abruptly before entering her room. "Eh…perhaps it's best if you wait in the boy's room, Peter." 

"Why?" He asked innocently. 

"Well, I'm going to change and wash." She explained.

"Oh. All right." Peter remained standing close to her, showing no intentions of moving. He blinked at her quizzically a few times before Michael dragged him into the nursery. 

Wendy washed and dressed in record time and so she ended up waiting on the boys. When all were present and accounted for they trouped down the stairs and into the dining room. Mr. and Mrs. Darling were already seated. Mr. Darling in particular looked quite nervous and was constantly fidgeting with his napkin. The younger boys quickly took their seats, eager to begin on the assembled fried pork items. Peter hung back slightly, waiting for Wendy to proceed. She smiled at him encouragingly and indicated for him to take the seat next to her. They said grace and in a flash the younger boys were gobbling down surprising amounts of sausages, bacon, eggs and toast. Wendy choose a lighter breakfast of fruit and brown bread. Peter watched the proceedings with a careful eye. It was quite different from their meals in Neverland. Usually everyone fought for their share, with him always getting the best. Meal times were much less organised and much more fun. He eyed the cutlery wearily. He had no idea how to use them, he hardly remembered the names for the items in fact. Slyly he observed Wendy to his left and selected a piece of toast. He attempted to pick up the knife and butter his bread as she was doing but his fingers were unaccustomed to such work and held the knife awkwardly. Discreetly he dropped his toast and quickly took a few sausages and strips of bacon. Again he took up his knife and fork and once more attempted to copy the others. This time he failed spectacularly by knocking a sausage of his plate and hitting Mr. Darling square between the eyes. The younger boys responded by laughing loudly at his incompetence. They saw it as a great game, like when Peter would entertain them in Neverland. 

Wendy however immediately understood the situation. "Here Peter, let me." She leaned over and began to cut the remaining sausages and bacon. 

"NO!" He stood up in a flash, sending his chair crashing to the ground. "I'm not a baby!" He threw down his knife and ran from the room. Wendy stared after him for a second before leaping form her chair and running after him.

Mr. Darling, after wiping the sausage grease from his forehead, looked at his wife, a glare marring his face. She merely smiled back, prodding the twin closest to her. "Eat up." She instructed as the three young boys stared after Peter. 

Wendy found Peter struggling with the window in the sitting room. "Peter!" She ran to the window and began pushing it down into place. "Where are you going? Please don't leave. I'm sorry."

"You all think I'm stupid!" He sniffed, struggling meekly with the heavy window. 

"Oh Peter, of course we don't." She stepped closer to him, drawing him to the couch. "The Lost Boys had trouble getting used to things here too but it all worked out in the end."

Peter fell into the seat in a manner Mrs. Darling certainly would have disapproved off. "**I'm** not stating, Wendy." He said firmly.

Wendy felt her chest tighten. "I…I know that, Peter. We'll bring you to a doctor, a medicine man, to see if you're all right." She smiled reassuringly. "I'll fetch breakfast and we can eat in here so the boys won't see." She quickly returned to the dining room, retrieved their plates and came back. Peter sat crossed legged sulking when she returned. She set the plate before him and waited for him to look up. He stubbornly refused to meet her eyes, opting instead to fold his arms tightly across his chest. Wendy frowned, rolling her eyes. "Oh Peter, you _are_ being immature."

His attention was now fixed solely on her. "You really think so?" He asked, hope in his eyes. Wendy could not help but laugh. Peter was so different, so refreshing. She knew how most other young men would react to such an accusation but Peter treated it as a compliment. 

Taking her mirth to be an affirmation, Peter beamed back at her and began to eat his breakfast. "Why do you use all those silly shiny things anyway?" He queried. 

"Well," Wendy mused, picking up a sausage and chewing on it. "So as to keep our hands clean. It's not though of as polite to eat with your hands, Peter."

"It's not thought of as fun either." He remarked, smiling brightly when Wendy giggled at him. "Where is the doctor?" He refrained from looking at Wendy, not willing to make visible the fear in his eyes. What if this doctor confirmed his worst fears, what if he told them that Peter was indeed growing up. 

"His office is quite far from here. We shall have to get a cab." Wendy frowned. She wasn't quite sure how Peter would find London. She was sure the day would certainly prove interesting at best. 

Once they had both eaten their fill they returned to the dining room. Mr. and Mrs. Darling were both sipping tea while the boys had returned to the nursery, intent on causing mischief. 

"Ah Peter, I see you have come back to us." Mrs. Darling remarked playfully. 

Peter did not answer but scowled in her direction. "Peter!" Wendy hissed, uncomfortable with Peter's unsupported dislike for her mother. 

For her part Mrs. Darling did not remark on Peter's rudeness, although she was tiring of it. She also feared for her husband's short temper. "Are you quite ready to leave for the doctor?" She inquired, noting Wendy's unbrushed hair. 

"Nearly mother." Wendy noticed the look and began smoothing her tousled hair. 

"Nearly?" George spoke up for the first time, his voice in the same high pitched tone from the morning. "Mary dear, he cannot go out on the streets of London in _that!_" He eyed Peter's scantly clad form with dismay. Peter narrowed his eyes at him but didn't comment. He restrained himself for Wendy's sake. "And he's positively filthy. He needs a good wash." 

Peter turned up his nose. "A wash?!" He looked at Wendy, disgust on his face. 

"Yes, young ma… eh sir." George corrected himself after receiving death glares from all three present. "A wash. I dare saw it's been years since you've even seen a bath, let alone had one." He turned to his wife. "We can't have him running the streets like that, with no shoes and long john's made of undergrowth, think of the neighbours!" 

"George dear." Mrs. Darling stood and smiled at her husband. "I'll take care of Peter. You relax." She grinned at him before turning to the two young people. Peter looked ready to fight. His entire body was tense and he eyed Mr. Darling contemptuously. "Come, your father is right, Wendy." She chastised as they exited the dining room. "We cannot have Peter leave the house in…in his Neverland clothes. You run a bath for him and I'll see if I can find him something suitable to wear." 

Wendy sighed before leading the way to the bathroom. Once the tub was filled with piping hot water she turned to Peter, blushing slightly. "I'll leave you to wash." She remarked, avoiding eye contact. 

Peter gripped her arm lightly. "Wait Wendy. I don't know what to do." He waited for her to respond, but she merely bit her lip and scuffed her shoes. "Will you help me?" 

Wendy reacted instantly, pulling herself away from him. "Peter!" She practically screamed, covering her mouth and blushing crimson. "That's not…I mean to say-"

He strode towards her. "I'm sorry. What did I do wrong? I don't understand what I'm to do." He searched her face, desperate to know what he had done to upset her so. "What's a bath?"

Wendy stared at him for a few seconds, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. A few seconds later she broke into peals of laughter. "Oh Peter!" She giggled. "You are a savage. You're meant to clean yourself. You use the water to remove all the dirt and grime." This time it was Peter's turn to blush. "It's like having a swim, only in less water." Wendy continued. "I'm afraid I cannot help you though." She remarked quietly.

"No!" Peter said forcefully. "No, I can manage." He grinned shyly. "Sorry. I…I think I remember baths now. Michael didn't like them." 

"Yes, and neither did you if I recall." She mirrored his timid smile. "Or rather I suppose you don't. You would never take a bath, no matter how I insisted." Peter grinned cheekily at her, seemingly pleased with himself. "Well, I'll…eh, leave you to it." She looked away, his grin causing her to blush once more. Peter waited for her to leave, closing the door behind her, before he turned to glare at the offending bath. 

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Wendy and her mother sat waiting for Peter in the downstairs parlour. Mrs. Darling had lain out some of John's clothes for Peter. He was taking some time to ready himself and Wendy grew more apprehensive with each passing second. She was quite glad that the window in the bathroom was not large enough to permit Peter to escape. She glanced at her mother before checking the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time. Almost as if on que they heard the bathroom door open. With an undignified run Wendy quickly made her way to the hallway. She felt her breath catch as she stared at the sight before her. At the top of the stairs, dressed in John's trousers and shirt stood an almost civilised looking Peter Pan. He held on to the waist of his trousers and looked at Wendy doubtfully. He began to descend the stairs as Mrs. Darling made her way to the hall. "I see you fared well." She remarked.

Peter shrugged, still clinging to the waist band of his trousers. "They're too big." He remarked, shifting his shoulders.

"Peter, you haven't the buttons done." Mary remarked. "Here allow me." She took a step towards him but Peter retreated. 

"Can I do it, Peter." Wendy asked, smiling.

He shrugged, pouting once more. With a reassuringly smile Wendy began to do up the buttons of Peter's shirt, blushing slightly as she felt his bare chest under the fabric. She forced herself to concentrate on the task as she closed the top button. With a shy look she stepped back. Peter observed her handy work before returning her shy smile. Eyeing the closed buttons he repeated the technique with the buttons of his trousers, ensuring they stayed up on him. Although he equalled John's tall frame Peter was leaner and so the trousers hung low on his hips. Mrs. Darling found him a belt and with a little refining they soon had Peter passing for an English gentleman. He still had something of a wild look to him, Wendy noted. His hair remained tousled and his bronzed skin seemed to shine brighter now that the layer of dirt had been removed from it. She looked away blushing when Peter caught her eye. 

It was with shoes that they had most difficulty. At first Peter outright refused to wear them. They felt uncomfortable and unusual on his perpetually bare feet. But with a little gently coaxing he relented and promised to wear them outside of the house.

Once all were ready, they bid their farewells to the Lost Boys and made their way outside. Almost immediately Wendy froze mid step. Peter instantly stepped in front of her, ready to fight the danger. However the danger was not easily identified. He scanned the street and did not see anything remotely threatening. 

"Wendy!" He turned to his right to find a young lady of about Wendy's age approach, followed by two others.

Peter looked back to Wendy to find a pained expression on her face. She quickly covered it and stepped forward, smilingly slightly. "Isobella." She walked towards the girl. "How nice to see you." 

Peter could tell that Wendy felt the exact opposite. This did not seem to sway the girl however. She smiled sweetly as she kissed Wendy's cheek. The young woman, Isobella, was dressed in the most unusual outfit Peter had ever seen. Her dress was covered in lace, pearls and rolls and rolls of satin. Her blonde hair was secured on top her head in a bun. She reminded him of the porcelain dolls Wendy kept on top of her dresser. Ones to be looked at but not played with. He wondered how she could possibly do anything besides stand in such an outfit. 

"And who is this young man?" Peter seethed as the blonde girl turned her sights on him. How dare she call him a man!

"Oh, this is Peter." Wendy remarked, indicating for Peter to join her. "He's, eh, my cousin." Peter looked at her questioningly. Why did she lie?

"Oh, and you've never introduced us before!" The girl joked." Shame on you." She turned her stare on Peter, running her eyes over him, appraising him. Peter eyed her apprehensively. He was beginning to dislike this girl more and more. 

"He's only visiting for a…a short time." Wendy could not bring herself to look at Peter as she said this. 

The girl once more turned her attention on Peter. "Pity." She extended her hand, offering Peter the back of it. "I'm Isobella Weston." She looked at him expectantly. 

Peter glanced at Wendy before turning back to Isobella. "Peter. Pan." He replied. She looked at him expectantly and after a few uncomfortable seconds Peter conceded and grasped her hand in his, shaking it jerkily. 

Isobella eyed him strangely before her attention was caught by the young man behind her clearing his throat. "Oh, where are my manners." She giggled. "Let me introduce _my _cousin, Nathan Weston." She stepped to the side in order to let the young man behind her make his presence known. "Nathan, this is Wendy Darling." 

Nathan smiled broadly. He seemed an agreeable person. He had dark hair and eyes and although dressed smartly he did not seem awkward as his cousin did. He stepped forward and took Wendy's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. Peter blushed, realising what Isobella had expected of him. He watched, his stomach twisting, as Wendy smiled shyly and blushed at Nathan. He instantly decided he greatly disliked the man. After greeting Wendy, Nathan turned to Peter, extending his hand. Peter shook it, gripping a little harder than was necessary. 

"Peter, you said." Nathan remarked, seemingly unfazed by Peter's cold countenance. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. Nathan Weston. Here in London for a short stay, from Cornwall." He looked at Peter searching for recognition. "Where did you saw you're from?"

"I'm from Nev-"

"New Zealand!" Wendy cut in, smiling nervously. "He's from New Zealand. Yes, all the way from New Zealand." She laughed hollowly, silently praying Peter kept quiet.

"New Zealand?" Isobella exclaimed. "Oh how lovely! I should _love_ to visit." 

Peter turned up his nose at the though of her spending any time in Neverland. She would most certainly detest the place. 

"Yes, well, I hate to be hasty but we have errands to run. We best be off." Wendy turned to her mother who was chatting with Isobella's mother. "Excuse us."

"Oh but Wendy-" Isabella began to pout. 

"Frightfully sorry, Isabella but we are very busy." Wendy began to usher Peter and her mother towards a cab.

"How unfortunate. Well at the very least you simply must attend the party at ours tonight." Isabella stood in front of Wendy, impeding her progress. "We must show Peter English hospitality."

Wendy eyed Peter apprehensively. Taking him to a ball would certainly prove disastrous. "I doubt we can make it, Isabella. We-"

"No, I must insist, Wendy." An ugly look crossed Isabella's features. "It would give me great pleasure." She turned, looking quite pretty once more. "Peter shall be our guest of honour, in fact." Wendy's face fell but she could see no alternative. "So we shall see you tonight?" Isabella pressed.

Wendy seeing no escape, accepted defeat. "Of course. We look forward to it." She smiled, before she, Peter and Mrs. Darling climbed aboard the cab behind a large chestnut horse. Mrs. Darling gave the driver directions while Wendy pouted in the corner. As they made their way down the street Mrs. Darling began to giggle at her daughter. 

"Mother!" Wendy cried. "It is not funny! Imagine, having to spend the entire evening with miss prim and proper Weston. Eugh." She sighed, crossing her arms under her chest. "I'd rather walk the plank." Peter joined Mrs. Darling and began to giggle at Wendy. Wendy cried out in exasperation. "Oh not you too, Peter!"

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

__

Ok, here endeth chapter two. Sorry it was so short and that nothing happened in it but I just had to set some scenes before I could proceed with the next chapter. 

Also sorry for the delay. I was crazy busy last week. I've more free time this week so hopefully I'll get the next chapter out much sooner! 


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